


Spoil Her Rotten

by amyponders



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Related, Cheating, Control, Cuckolding, Cute, Cute Ending, Cutesy, Dad Ivar (Vikings), Difficult Decisions, Disability, Disabled Character, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fatherhood, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Sex, Implied/Referenced Torture, Infertility, Ivar (Vikings) Being an Asshole, Ivar (Vikings) is a Little Shit, Jealous Ivar (Vikings), Jealousy, King - Freeform, Loss of Virginity, Love Triangles, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Relationships, Other, Physical Disability, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Kissing, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Romance, Platonic Sex, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Ivar (Vikings), Pregnancy, Queen - Freeform, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, Sad and Happy, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sexual Dysfunction, Sibling Rivalry, Siblings, Slice of Life, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Dancing, Slow Romance, Sneaking Around, Two Fathers, Unhealthy Relationships, Vikings, blood oath, brother-in-law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23295094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyponders/pseuds/amyponders
Summary: You're pregnant with Ivar's firstborn and his brothers Ubbe and Hvitserk take care of you during this time. At the same time, you deal with a hard choice you made to keep Ivar happy.
Relationships: Hvitserk & Ivar (Vikings), Hvitserk & Ubbe (Vikings), Hvitserk (Vikings)/Reader, Hvitserk (Vikings)/You, Hvitserk/Ivar (Vikings)/You, Hvitserk/Ivar/Ubbe (Vikings)/Reader, Hvitserk/Ubbe (Vikings)/Reader, Hvitserk/Ubbe (Vikings)/You, Ivar & Ubbe (Vikings), Ivar (Vikings)/Reader, Ivar (Vikings)/You, Torvi/Ubbe (Vikings), Ubbe (Vikings) & Reader, Ubbe (Vikings)/Reader, Ubbe (Vikings)/You
Comments: 60
Kudos: 77





	1. 3 Months

**Author's Note:**

> I did this mainly to give a little love to my boys Hvitty and Ubbe and also to make Ivar jealous because I just love it so much when he loses his shit over his brothers being touchy/soft/affectionate with his s/o.

[Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5KXSlILOoK5j4Yj7aDk6Jc?si=8gZcmmn2Roy-VN8Avq27qw)

There was a soft knock on your door, soft enough to make you doubt it had even happened. You were loosening up your braids and you had already stripped to your nightdress so you looked out the window first. Since you did not see anything, you closed the curtain and walked to your wardrobe to put something on top before opening the door in case it was a stranger, but then you heard Ubbe’s muffled voice through the wooden door. 

“Y/N! It is us! Open up, please.” Since it was just them, you walked over to the threshold to let them in, your belly almost making you trip over a rocking chair in the process. You were still getting used to it getting in the way all the time.

“Hey!” You greeted them. “Come on in, it is about to snow outside.” 

Your husband had left for a nearby village that morning and he said he would leave his brothers “in charge of you”, but since you had not seen them all day long, you assumed they had decided to ignore him and were in some dark corner of Kattegat getting drunk and chasing after shieldmaidens. 

“I am sorry it took us so long. We were tending to some other business out of town. And on top of that Hvitserk kept pestering me saying he wanted to bring you flowers to brighten up your mood and we actually got lost in the forest.” Ubbe sat down in the wooden rocking chair you kept in the room now, the motion caught him off guard but he shook it off amusingly and continued: “Can you believe it? Us. The sons of Ragnar. Born and raised in Kattegat... First time for everything, I guess?” He gestured with his hands.

“Oh.” You blurted turning to Hvitserk, your cheeks turning slightly pink. “Thank you, you should not have!” 

You let go of a strand of braided hair and took the simple but beautiful bouquet of flowers he produced from his hands. You kissed his cheek in gratitude and he smiled shyly while scratching the back of his neck. You had grown in relative proximity to them all and you knew he had a crush on you even before you and Ivar got together - he was transparent like that - which was why you had asked for his help some months ago in the first place. Not only you knew he would not refuse a chance to spend a night in your bed, but you also knew he would do anything to please you, and most importantly, he would be discreet about it.

You had never corresponded to his feelings so you felt terrible using him like that, but you knew that whatever effort Ivar was doing in bed - honest as it was - it was not enough. And you did not want to disappoint him. You could take anything except your husband hating on himself, questioning the gods as to why he could not be a normal man. 

And so, you had called on Hvitserk one night while Ivar was away to utter the immoral proposal, eyes filled with tears and shame and regret and he had dropped to his knees, grabbing your waist reverentially while kissing your stomach, again and again, begging you to let him serve you, swearing on his arm ring he would never tell a soul, saying that he would do it for you, just for you. 

You had blown out the candles in your nightstand, somehow convinced that doing it in the dark while you imagined Ivar’s strong hands on your body would be less atrocious. Hvitserk had been gentle and loving, making love to you and showering you with shy kisses rather than breeding you impatiently. Perhaps he dragged it on for longer than he really needed to, but you let him have it. 

The next morning you had woken up to an empty bed and red-stained sheets and you realized Ivar had never taken your maidenhead completely; rather, Hvitserk had. You did not know if your brother-in-law had noticed, but regardless, it was another shameful stain you would carry with you to your grave.

Hvitserk’s mellow voice brought you back to the present. “I know how much you love flowers and I have noticed you have been a little off lately.”

“Yeah, growing a person inside you will do that to you.” You retorted and smiled. “Please, sit, Hvitserk.” 

He looked around and decided to throw himself on your bed while you walked to the table, looking for a place to set the flowers down. 

“I will spread them across the room tomorrow!”

Hvitserk looked pleased, his murky green eyes twinkling against the warm light of the fireplace.

“I thought maybe you were going to ignore Ivar’s paranoid orders.” You turned to Ubbe and resumed working on your braids. 

You sensed Hvitserk’s shining gaze on your long hair and felt a strange sense of pride for your flowing locks. It felt good to be admired for a second, even if the thought of having your brother-in-law’s eyes on you made you feel slightly ashamed.

“And risk his neverending wrath?” Ubbe chuckled. “Not a chance.”

“What did he tell you, exactly?”

“Oh, nothing, you know. Just that he would blood-eagle us if any harm befell you, or if anyone touched a simple hair on your crown.” 

“It seems excessive.” You retorted. 

“Do not worry, we are used to it.” Ubbe made a flippant gesture and you laughed quietly, even if you knew your husband was not just throwing around empty threats. “I guess you will be seeing a lot of us in the upcoming weeks.” He kept talking.

You nodded. Despite growing up _around_ them, you were not exactly close with any of them so this felt a little weird, although you were sure you could get used to their company. It was time you actually got to know your brothers-in-law.

You touched your stomach absently through your white gown and said looking between them: “I am sorry you are stuck babysitting us. I am sure you have other things you would rather be doing.”

“Not really…” It was Hvitserk, the one who spoke this time. His eyes flew to your belly, visible over the semi-translucent sheer fabric of your gown and he half-smiled longingly. 

The day you and Ivar had announced your pregnancy over a feast, you had overheard him drunk-talking to his friends saying how he wanted to have children too. And even if you had chuckled quietly because of how amusing and cute you thought his slurred speech was after he had one too many cups of ale, you had also seen the sadness in his eyes and you felt for him. This baby inside you, even though it was his, it could never be his, not really. You could only hope he found a girl soon to give him the children he deserved. Maybe she would help him get over his puppy love for you as well...

“Please, Y/N. How could we not take care of you? You are family. And the better half of Ivar too, so we better make sure you live. You could say it is in our best interest!” Ubbe joked and flashed his white grin.

You mimicked his expression and continued: “Still… I thank you.” You replied sincerely.

“Of course, Y/N. It is our pleasure.” Hvitserk replied in a wholehearted tone.

“Well, I see you are preparing for bed, we should probably take shifts outside your door. Come on, Hvitserk!” Ubbe stood up.

“No way!” You exclaimed. “You are not staying outside and least of all when it is this cold.” You reached your bed and threw a pillow at each. “You will stay by the fireplace. That is an order from your queen.” 

Ubbe was about to open his mouth to protest but Hvitserk interrupted him: “Well, I do not know about you, but I would rather stay inside, brother.” He walked over to the fireplace, stopping in front of you for a short moment to touch your belly with his slender fingers and say: “Besides, she is the boss now.” Smirking, he bowed down to you and said: “My queen.” Then he threw his pillow on the ground before laying down sideways. “You take the first shift, Ubbe.” And he closed his eyes without even waiting for Ubbe’s answer.

Ubbe raised an eyebrow at his brother’s laziness and said to you: “Fine… But do not tell Ivar. He will kill us if he finds out we slept in the same room.” He put a hand over his mouth, pretending to gasp and you smiled again. “Deal?” Ubbe asked. He grabbed your nose playfully and you crinkled it.

You rolled your eyes imagining the tantrum Ivar was sure to throw. “Deal.” You confirmed.


	2. 6 Months

Spring was blooming in Kattegat and it was time to celebrate your birthday. Normally, you only held a small gathering for your closest friends but this year, your first next to your husband and king, Ivar, he had - unsurprisingly - insisted on preparing a big feast. 

_ I have to celebrate my queen and the love of my life... How else am I going to let the gods know how grateful I am for placing you and the little one in your womb in my life?  _ He had said one night kissing your lips slowly, savoring every little whimper that came from your mouth. It only took a few of those kisses to convince you to let him do anything he wanted.

And so, he had orchestrated it all, preparing hallways decorated with your favorite flowers; copious amounts of fruits; roasted meats of all kind; nuts; fragrant loaves of bread; and lots of cakes for your sweet tooth cravings; barrels upon barrels of mead and ale; and more people than you’d ever seen together  —  except perhaps for the gatherings. In fact, the servants had just come to tell you that the room that Ivar had reserved to hold all your presents had overflowed. 

_ Blessed Freya! _ Where on earth were you going to store all of those gifts? You were not even sure where to keep the dozen new dresses he had ordered to be made for you, least of all the things the guests had brought. You kept wondering with a hint of amusement whether Ivar had threatened every guest to bring twice as many gifts or risk his rage. You knew it was excessive, but you would not put it past him.

Now you were sitting down on your throne chair next to Ivar’s to rest your feet for a while; spending too much time walking around saying hello to everybody was a sure way of getting sore in your legs. The beautiful music resonating through the house grabbed your attention, the musicians were playing a slower tune and you saw Hvitserk standing up from his place on the long table, slightly inebriated and looking straight at you. You laughed and shook your head when you realized he meant to ask you for a dance. 

He nodded at you from a distance: “Come on, Y/N!” When he reached the throne he grabbed your hands and tugged at them gently. 

Ivar looked sideways at you both, cocking his eyebrows as he watched your unusual exchange.

“No!” You pouted and laughed. “Please, Hvitserk, I am so tired!”

“Nonsense! Besides… you  _ owe  _ me a dance. I have come to collect.” 

You saw Ivar react off the corner of your eye. He was probably going to interrupt you at any second now.

“I take it back. I do not want to dance with you anymore.” You said lightly.

“What do you mean ‘she  _ owes _ you’?” Ivar asked in a slightly-higher-than-usual tone, the one he used whenever he was trying to hide his defensiveness.

You looked over at him, silently gesturing to him that it was okay. He worried too much. 

“I asked her before while they were playing a livelier song-” Hvitserk gestured to the musicians but kept his gaze fixed on you. “-and she said I should ask her when they played one that was not going to make her go into early labor. So… this is the one.” He grinned at you. “Come, come!” Hvitserk insisted and pulled at your hands again.

“My feet can barely hold me up.” You lifted them off the ground to show him how swollen they were.

“She already said no, brother. And I approve, she needs to look out for our baby so… scram!” Ivar squinted his eyes but his voice was still just as nonchalant as before.

“I won’t take  _ no _ for an answer.” Hvitserk kept smiling and you finally gave in. 

“Fine, but just the one!” 

You stood up from your throne and descended the stairs arm in arm with him. Trying to dance with a six-month belly in between you was going to be a bit of a challenge. He grabbed your waist firmly and you rested your head on his shoulders while you swayed, the same way every other couple danced. 

But when you meant to return to your seat, you saw that Ivar had gone and your stomach dropped. Whenever he left unannounced it only meant trouble was on the way, even worse than if he had actually made a big display out of his anger. Your feet automatically took you to your bedroom where you found your husband sitting on the floor with his back to the bed in a dejected position. When he heard you come in though, his body language changed and he squared his shoulders, looking to the side with a stiff jaw. 

“Ivar… what’s wrong?”

Silence.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” You tried again and crouched in front of him. He refused to look at you.

“You just embarrassed me in front of everyone.” He finally spoke.

“Me? What did I do?”

“The one thing you could never do with me.”

“What on earth are you talking about? It was just one harmless dance!” 

“It was not harmless to me.” He finally looked at you and scoffed loudly, a gesture of deception crossing his features. “Do not you realize it is the one thing I cannot give you, Y/N? And it kills me...” His voice broke. “And it had to be with my brother, out of all the men in the room.”

“Do not say that, Ivar. It was just a friendly moment, it meant nothing...”

“It is not just the dance! I do not like how he looks at you!” He snapped and you swallowed hard, thinking of a way to steer the conversation toward safer waters. 

You knew he knew of his brother’s affections for you. He would oftentimes make a point of kissing you and holding you close whenever he felt territorial while Hvitserk was in sight, which happened frequently.

“Well, maybe you should not have left him in charge of me if you did not want us to become close. You are the one who’s always leaving me to go raid or do business.” You shot back, not being known for holding back your thoughts.

“You know I have to leave.” He sounded more guilty than hurt.

“I understand that, love. But you cannot be mad when your actions have consequences...  _ good _ consequences…” You rushed to say. “Ivar, I actually care for your brothers. That doesn’t mean you come second!” You tried to reason with him.

“There’s no difference to me.” He retorted, looking at you with fire behind his pupils.

“Maybe there should be.” You decided to exhale and sit on the floor in front of him. You were not going to give in to his angry comments. Despite his displeasure, his concerned gaze followed you as you bent weighed down by your belly and he reached an arm out to steady you. “You satisfy me in every possible way.” Your voice was truthful. “And I do not care if we cannot dance because I married you. Not Hvitserk. And I love you. Not Hvitserk. There’s no one else I’d rather have, my love.” You traced your fingers lovingly on the back of his palm. You had to approach him with caution until his anger relented. His face softened a little. 

“If he thinks I will share you as Ubbe did with Margrethe he has got another thing coming.” He kept grasping at straws.

You chuckled and shook your head: “Who’s talking about sharing? I only want you.” You kissed his cheekbone then moved your attention toward his mouth, grabbing his bottom lip and rolling it between yours; you could feel him melting under you.

“How do you put up with me?” He asked embarrassed, logic finally starting to seep in after several kisses and sweet words on your part.

“Love.” You answered. “But if you need proof, husband...” You kneeled carefully and started sliding off your dress. Suddenly, he was blushing like a little kid. “Let’s stay here… After all, it is my birthday.” Your suggestion hung in the air as he looked at you with impatient blue eyes, admiring your naked statuesque body and your beautiful round belly but wishing you would hurry up undressing. 

“Some days I cannot believe my luck.” He jumped hungrily at your lips.

“Nor I mine.” You replied in between jagged breaths.


	3. 9 Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter!

You were serving a hot plate of food to Ubbe and laughing at some joke he had made when you felt it: the first wave of pain of the day. It had been more than twelve hours since the last one and you were wondering - full of hope - if maybe those nasty pangs were going to give you a break today. You knew that with the due date approaching it was less than likely, but still, you hoped. 

Lately, it seemed all you did was recoil in pain and sit down around the house every time your contractions started. Usually, you waited until they subsided, but you did not like to sit around being idle for too long. You had not cut down on your daily activities because of your pregnancy. As a matter of fact, you still went to the market every day to look for fresh produce to cook for your brothers-in-law who loved just about everything you put in front of them for dinner. 

You had become very close with them during the past months because Ivar had often been away from Kattegat for long weeks on end on ‘kingly business’. He had left them with you - according to him - to take care of you, even if at this point you were not sure who was taking care of who. With the mischievous way they behaved sometimes you felt as if being near them was practice for your upcoming motherly duties. 

In any case, you had not let your belly dictate anything you did, in spite of Ivar’s vocal complaints and his insistence upon you resting as much as you could.  _ It is my baby, Y/N. My first baby. I won’t let anything happen to you two.  _ He repeated constantly, and more than once you found yourself forcing a smile in his presence - sometimes more convincingly than others - whenever you remembered that fateful night Hvitserk had spent in your bed, which had led to the existence of this baby that Ivar now - unknowingly - called his.

He was sweet to you and you were more than happy to help him fulfill his dream of being a husband and a father, through whatever means. Still, you were glad he was not there now because the scream you let out would have startled him beyond measure. You knew how much your discomfort hurt him and you wanted to spare him the sight. Today was not shaping out to be one of those ‘push through it’ days if the way your stomach contracted was any indication. 

The plate you were holding fell down with a loud clatter and the food immediately splattered everywhere, from the floor to the wooden chairs, to your pretty blue dress and Ubbe’s leather boots. You bent forward to grab the edge of the table and let out a puff of air. To say it took you by surprise would be an understatement.

Immediately, your brother-in-law was all over you. He cupped your face sweetly: “Are you okay, Y/N? Is it time?” He had been through this before with Torvi, so you could say he was kind of an expert at this point. He even delivered his last son alone with his wife. 

You pressed your own lips hard to keep from yelling. “I… do not think so. No. No. It is not time yet. It is just a regular contraction.” You tried to reassure both of you.

“It smells  _ so _ good in here!” You heard Hvitserk say as he entered the kitchen with a slight bounce of his toes. “What did you prepare for us today, Y/N?”

Another wave of pain hit you and you scratched the wooden table with your nails inadvertently, this time not able to hold back the scream.

Hvitserk’s smile vanished as he took in the scene. Ubbe was standing next to you, one hand on your back now to support you, while his other touched your belly protectively so it would not hit the table as you bent forward violently. Liquid started pouring between your legs and pooling at your feet. This was it.

He shot a look over at his brother and said: “She is going into labor!”

“What should I do?” Hvitserk sounded slightly panicked. “Do I call Ivar?”

“No! Do not call Ivar!” You shouted as you rode another wave of pain, your voice incredibly strained. “He will lose it!”

“Help me get her to their room.” Ubbe ordered Hvitserk, who passed an arm around your shoulders. They intended to help you bounce over to your chambers but Ubbe suddenly withdrew. 

“No, you take her. I am going to go ahead and prepare the bed.” 

You reached the room with the help of Hvitserk who lifted you off the ground midway and carried you easily, rather than waiting for you to walk on your own. When you arrived, Ubbe had set down some clean towels, and a basin with water, as well as some medicinal herbs and oils you were keeping close now that you knew you were near the end of your pregnancy.

“Brother.” He started. “There has been no news of the midwife we sent for a few days ago... so it has to be us.”

“Are you insane?!”

“We have to do it. We have to help Y/N deliver this baby.”

“No way!”

Ubbe shot him a fuming look. “Hvitserk!”

“I do not know what to do!” He tried to justify himself.

“Well, I do. Just follow my lead!” Ubbe tried to convince him.

“No! No, no, no.” He laughed nervously. “There is no way I am doing this.” He stood with a downcasted look and his hands placed firmly on his hips.

“By all the gods, Hvitserk! We do not have time to argue!”

“I cannot deliver a baby!” His voice went up a few octaves and he started walking around in circles like a startled chicken.

“Do not tell me that the ever-fearsome-in-battle Hvitserk is afraid of a little blood.” Ubbe sounded pissed.

“No! No, it is not that.” He shot back and made an ‘I am so offended’ gesture that would've been funny if you were not in so much pain. 

“Then what is it?”

Hvitserk stayed silent. You knew he was probably lying and thinking of an excuse to sneak out. And you could not exactly blame him. If you were a man and had the option of not being in the same room as a hysterical parturient woman, you’d take it too. 

“You’ve killed your fair share of men, brother. Help introduce a new life to the world for a change, eh?” Ubbe smiled a bit strained, challenging him with his eyes as he shoved a towel on his hand.

“Nuh-uh.” Hvitserk shook his head and stepped back and Ubbe walked forward, invading his personal space and grabbing him by the shoulders. 

The end of his patience was near. He whispered something emphatically at him while Hvitserk just stood there and took the brunt of his words. You could not hear their exchange now, but knowing Ubbe, he was probably insulting him. Everyone always thought that he was the most reasonable out of all the brothers and they were right, but he had his temper too, especially when it came to his siblings. He had practically invented tough love. 

While they argued you sat on your bed and started crawling to the center, trying to find a comfortable position to lie down but you could not find any. No position helped ease the pain.

“Shut up, the both of you, please.” You managed to get out. They looked back at you lying sideways in bed while you grabbed your ankles, liquid, and red soaking all your dress.

“Is that blood?” Hvitserk exclaimed. “Oh, gods! Is she okay, Ubbe? Are you okay Y/N?” He asked, almost comically alarmed. 

“She will be if you help us.”

You shrieked again, your back felt as if it were about to break, your heart was beating a thousand times per minute and your lower abdomen hurt worse than anything you had ever felt before. 

“She needs to lie back with some pillows behind her!” Ubbe looked at Hvitserk as if it were obvious. “Well, move her!” He gestured with his arm, clearly exasperated at his brother before leaving the room. 

At Ubbe’s command, Hvitserk snapped out of his reverie. He grabbed your legs and waist to lift you, this time placing you down further up the bed and facing upward. You supported your weight on your elbows and threw your head back while trying to steady your breathing. 

“Hey, hey, shhh. It is alright, Y/N.” Hvitserk leaned over you and tried to calm you by cupping your face.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. But I had to.” Ubbe spoke entering the room again.   
  


What was he sorry for? You lifted your head and heard the floorboards creaking. You realized then that Ivar was trailing after his older brother. Why did he have to call him? You did not want him there!

“Babe? Babe, I am here.” His voice trembled a little. “Why is there blood? Ubbe?!” He looked at him spooked.

Did they all expect babies to come out of the womb sparkling clean? 

“It is normal, Ivar.” Ubbe replied in a cool tone to a half-convinced Ivar, then he kept moving jars around trying to find some herb or another. He put a small twig near your nose and you inhaled. It was lavender. “Here, hold this for her, Hvi. It will help calm her down.”

You closed your eyes trying to focus on bringing down your breathing, but your womb chose this moment to wring itself out and make you grunt. You were sweating profusely, the crown of braids you wore loosening up and your hair sticking to your neck already. Was it normal to sweat this much? Your room had always been a cool place, but today in the middle of sommar, it felt particularly hot and humid. 

You felt so uncomfortable and as time went by, you became hyper-aware of anything that touched your body, like the heavy fabric of your regal-looking teal blue dress that rustled against your skin, irking you and adding one more stimulus you did not need at the moment. You cursed the moment you had let Ivar convince you of wearing it today.

Ubbe climbed onto the bed and sat down behind you, opening his legs for you to lay back. His solid chest was a nice thing to have behind you; he was affectionate and reassuring to you, as always.

“You need to start pushing, my sweet.” Ubbe spoke next to your ear. He whispered more words of encouragement and you nodded.

You mumbled something back, thinking he would hear you, but instead, he asked: “What was that, Y/N?”

“My dress. By all the gods, take it off!” You murmured half deliriously. 

“Help her, Hvi!” He said and you started writhing around. 

You saw Hvitserk open his eyes wide before looking down at Ivar and shaking his head no. He was clearly afraid of what your husband could do to him and judging by the look on your sweetheart’s face, he was right to do so.

“Do not fucking touch her!” Ivar yelled. 

His jealous expression was amusing to you, even if he meant to be menacing, the alarm behind his eyes made him look so vulnerable. He knew he could not stop them and probably was not entirely sure he should either. His hesitancy was clearly drawn on his face. He looked about as threatening to you as a wolf puppy, which was probably why you married him in the first place. He could try to pretend with anyone else but you knew he was just a child inside.

“Cut the shit, Ivar!” Ubbe replied briskly to his brother. Ivar swallowed hard and you could see his mind was racing to try and find a counterargument. 

“I-” Hvitserk choked on his words.

“For fuck’s sake, Hvitserk! Sit down behind her, then. And keep her calm! It is better if I oversee this anyway...” Ubbe barked at his other brother; he was trying to juggle the three of you at the same time and it was not exactly easy.

Hvitserk took off his shoes and sat behind you the way Ubbe had done before. However, he grabbed your arms and pinned them to the bed - gently, but firmly - to make you stop writhing. 

Ubbe started unlacing the front of your heavy dress. 

Inevitably, Ivar spoke again: “Hey! Hey! Is that really necessary?” He had sat down on a stool at the foot of the bed and was reaching at Ubbe. Ivar grasped at his shoulder almost falling over but managed to make him turn around. 

“What?!”

Ivar was frowning like a baby. A really angry baby. “Is it necessary?” Ivar repeated his question; his voice was more urgent than usual.

“Yes! It is. She is suffocating under that clunky dress.” Ubbe assured him. 

He kept working the laces diligently but when he realized how long it was going to take, he started tearing at it with his hands. There went the fortune Ivar spent. The fabric gave way with a loud tearing noise and he threw the dress away. Ubbe then lifted your undershirt and tucked it beneath your breasts. At this point, you did not care if they saw you naked, but you were somewhat grateful - and surprised - when you felt Hvitserk look down to the side to avoid seeing beyond your shoulders. 

“I am sorry brother, but how do you expect me to deliver this baby if I cannot even see where it is going to poke its head out.” He said all matter-of-fact.

“No, no, no. I am not comfortable with this!”

“Yeah, guess what? Neither is she. And  _ this _ is your fault. You did this, brother.”

Ivar frowned: “Excuse me? What?” 

“Her insides are ripping apart because you wanted a kid. It is  _ all _ because of you.” Ubbe tried to guilt him into giving in.

You felt Hvitserk shift uncomfortably behind you and realized you had not really considered how painful and disagreeable this situation must be for him too.

Ivar scowled and bit his inner lip. “Alright, alright.” He conceded lowering his voice, although his frown returned.

“Maybe relax and trust me, yes? I have done this before.” Ubbe laughed at the defeated expression your husband was making.

If he had something else to add he kept it to himself.

“Okay, Y/N. It is time, darling! Push!”

You started bearing down with all your strength and kept going at it for what seemed like hours. Or maybe they had been hours, you were not exactly aware of how much time had passed. Hvitserk was doing better than you expected, he had not left the room as you had once predicted when it all started. And he was doing his best to comfort you, stroking your arms gently and pressing his lips lovingly on the back of your head. 

Ivar was biting his nails furiously and breathing heavily, alternating his gaze between Hvitserk’s caresses and your contorted face of pain. You knew that the second this was over, he would not allow his brother to come within twenty feet of you until his jealousy subsided. 

“Come on, love, come on. You are doing so well.” Somebody said and you were not even sure who.

If it was true you were doing well, you could not tell. You had lost count of all the times you had pushed, and inhaled, pushed, and inhaled. All you could sense was pain; a blazing agony that felt as if they were cutting you open with a flaming knife. You shrieked like a banshee when the baby’s head crowned, stretching you with a burning sensation, unlike anything you’d ever felt. 

Ubbe encouraged you to keep pushing. “I can see the baby's head. Keep going, Y/N. It is almost over.” 

All you had done for hours was push and push. You wished you could tell him to stop bossing you. You hated him in that instant. You hated everything and everyone. Why did you ever think it was a good idea to become pregnant? Immediately, you felt guilty. You remembered how you had cheated on your husband and how you probably deserved all the pain you were experiencing and more. Your emotions felt all over the place and you finally started crying.

“I cannot- I cannot do it anymore.”

“Yes, you can! You are so strong. That is what I love the most about you!” Ivar dropped to the floor when he saw the baby and crawled the small distance from the chair to the bed. 

He lied on it and reached a hand over to your leg, placing kisses on the sole of your right foot before squeezing it in his hand reassuringly. You fixed your stare on your husband, watching him as he watched you with entranced eyes. He was fascinated by it, as much as he was repelled, anxious, and scared. You saw how all the emotions danced across his face.

“It hurts so bad. I cannot take it anymore!” Your words got muffled by your erratic sobs.

Hvitserk placed his hand on top of your stomach and rubbed your belly. “Come on Y/N, you are nearly there.” He whispered. “Have I ever told you that you are my favorite sister-in-law?”

You shook your head no. He was trying to distract you and you appreciated it.

“Well, you are… Now let me see my favorite niece.” 

“Niece?” You and Ivar both asked at the same time.

“It is a girl, you will see.” Hvitserk assured you. “And she will be so beloved. Uncle Hvitserk will spoil her rotten. I will bring her presents from every raid.”

Ubbe looked at you and smirked. “So will I.”

“And watch over her when she starts walking so she doesn’t trip over everything as her mother does.” Hvitserk chuckled.

You would’ve smacked him over the head if you were not otherwise occupied.

“I will shower her with kisses and teach her how to fight. And I will chase away all the boys who come too close because no matter how big she gets, she will always be a little baby to me.” He laughed but you could hear the urgency - and the melancholic longing - in his voice. “But I cannot do any of that if you do not push her out.” 

Ivar looked at his brother with conflicted feelings on his face but said nothing. You tried to stifle your cries. 

“Please, do it one more time, Y/N. Just one. I  _ know _ you can do it.” He muttered against your ear and you nodded feverishly.

You sat forward, distancing yourself from Hvitserk’s arms to bear down with all your strength again. 

“You are doing great, love. Keep it up, keep it up!” Ubbe urged you. 

A blood-curdling scream came out of your throat and you felt the horrible pressure in your belly finally relent.

“She is out!” Ubbe exclaimed.

“She?” Ivar asked, his voice breaking from all the emotions.

“Yes. You have a healthy daughter, brother.” You saw through your blurry eyes - wet with tears - how Ubbe grabbed your baby daughter and put her in Ivar’s arms after cutting her cord. 

“I am a father! I am a father!” Ivar repeated, incredulous through his tears.

“I told you.” Hvitserk spoke in a knowing voice near your ear again. When a cold tear fell on your shoulder, you realized then that he was crying as well. 

You collapsed back on his chest and he did the same against the bed frame. You observed as Ivar held your daughter in the most delicate way possible as if she was made out of the most precious and fragile jewels and the look on his face told you he was happy beyond measure. All the suffering had been worth it. 

While Ivar admired your daughter completely absorbed, you felt Hvitserk place one last kiss on your head and whisper loud enough for you to hear: “Please, Y/N, call our daughter Inga.” 

And you nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little note: Inga means hero's daughter!


	4. You're Touching My Crown

The door to the Great Hall opened wide, spilling rays of sunshine on the floorboards and you blinked trying to distinguish the shape of your brother-in-law. He smiled warmly at you and you did the same, before swallowing almost imperceptibly. You were sure that from this distance he had not noticed. Hvitserk made a beeline for the throne chair where you were sitting waiting for him after having sent a thrall to fetch him. He stopped short of the steps that led up to your chair. 

He bowed reverentially in front of you. “My queen.”

“Hvitserk, please.” You shook your head, turning red despite your best efforts. “That is not my name. I am just… me.” You fussed.

He glanced around the room where at least half a dozen soldiers were standing guard, always following you around on Ivar’s orders. It had taken you long months, but you were finally used to having them trailing you at all times. Hvitserk squinted his eyes. The rules of propriety - which Ivar made sure everyone obeyed ever since he became king - compelled him to treat you like that in public. It would have been a different story if it was just the two of you.

“We can do away with the formalities.”

“If Ivar chops off my head…” He leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“He will have to deal with me afterward!” You were only half-joking. 

You two had become even closer after your daughter was born. He gravitated naturally towards her and in some twisted way, somehow it felt as if you were co-parenting. Hvitserk made a point to not overstep his boundaries in front of Ivar, but whenever his brother was not around he acted less like an uncle and more like the father he was.

“That still leaves me with the problem of, you know, not having a head.” 

You chuckled. “It is fine, trust me.” 

“Tell me, your majesty, how may I serve you?” He raised his voice, stepped back, and looked solemn, maybe a little stiffer than what was believable.

You glanced at your guards and nodded them out of the room and they obeyed. It still felt awkward sometimes to handle them. If Hvitserk would have been any other man - other than Ubbe, that is - you had a hunch they would not have left, and you would have felt like the biggest idiot. It was tough not being able to rule your own household completely, but they had strict orders to not leave you alone in the company of anybody, except family.

Hvitserk watched amused as they left. “My brother is not exactly the picture of trust, is he?”

You looked at him and sighed in reply, rolling your eyes lightly once you were sure you were alone. Hvitserk chuckled, a sweet short sound that let you know he was in a good mood. He stood with his hands grasped firmly behind his back, still a couple of steps removed from your chair.

“Are you okay, Y/N? You look very pale.” He bit his lip.

You nodded with your lips tightly pressed together. “I-I am. I am just… a little nervous.” You admitted, mortified.

“Nervous? Why are you nervous?”

“We… have to talk, Hvitserk.”

“Now you are making  _ me  _ nervous. Is Inga alright? Our daughter, she is fine, right?” He asked in a hushed whisper, even if the Great Hall was empty, you could never be too careful.

“She is. The wet nurse is feeding her. Do not worry. That is not why I called you here.” 

You felt the urge to stand up and pace around but your feet felt stuck to the fine pelts beneath you. It was better if you did not move. You were not exactly graceful whenever you were anxious.

“Then what is it? Speak, Y/N!”

You locked eyes with him hesitantly. “Our d- Inga - you corrected yourself - she is almost three years old now and Ivar… wants another child. He says he would love to have a boy to rule after him. We’ve been  _ trying  _ a lot lately…” You confessed.

Hvitserk stuck his nose in the air proudly. You noticed how the muscles in his jaw tensed.

“...but it is just not happening. I do not know how long it will be until he realizes that it is not merely bad luck.” There was a hidden plea in your eyes and in your voice.

Silence fell like a heavy curtain between you.

“I think you know where I am going with this… Please, do not make me say it.” 

The second time around still was not any easier. Mainly because you did not enjoy hurting Hvitserk nor taking advantage of him. And deep down you knew that this situation - all of it, since day one - hurt him, even if he tried to downplay it and hide it beneath his cool façade. The reason why you ignored it so willfully was because you needed him. And not just now, but all the time. 

The more involved he became in your life, the more you came to realize that you could not have done this alone. Ivar was away too often; his goal of dominating the lands beyond Kattegat consumed most of his life and that left you with an empty home, a growing toddler, and a bustling household to run all on your lonesome. If it were not for him and Ubbe - who took care of most of the ruling responsibilities so you would not have to - you would have lost your sanity a long time ago.

You could see Hvitserk’s mind racing. He looked to the floor with a straight face and deliberated for a few seconds. You were not sure if he felt insulted, flattered, needed, or cheated. Suddenly, he climbed the few steps separating you and threw his cape over his shoulder. He got down on one knee to put his forehead against your knees.

“I am nothing if not your humble servant, Y/N.” His sincerity still managed to take you by surprise. He kissed your hands with earnestness and you sighed relieved, feeling selfish beyond measure. “I will do it.”

“Do what?” 

The loud smack of game hitting the table startled you. Ubbe had sneaked in from the side and into the room noiselessly. He set aside his prey and took a cloth to clean off the blood from his hands. He was looking at you with a curious expression. You tried to react normally. After all, this was just you - the queen - asking his brother for an unspecified favor. You slithered your hand down Hvitserk’s head affectionately, almost motherly in a way, careful not to mess up the intricate braids you had done on his hair earlier that week.

Lucky for you, you had your bond with them both to fall back on and use as an alibi. It was nothing weird for you to treat each other fondly, even if it drove your husband insane. He had learned to  _ somehow _ tolerate it for your sake in a weird display of restraint on his part. Ubbe sat down to Hvitserk’s right in the step beneath your throne and searched for the palm of your hand with his face to kiss it lovingly. His beard tickled your fingers momentarily.

“Do what?” He repeated his question. “What are you kids plotting, huh? Leaving me out of all the fun.” He winked at you, a smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. 

“Come to think of it… You could ask Ubbe to help you with this one. I would not mind…  _ watching _ .” Hvitserk suggested deviously and you smacked his head.

“Ow!”

“Not funny! And also,  _ not true _ .” You observed and he stayed quiet, a weak blush spread across his proud cheeks. 

At this point, he was an expert curbing his feelings, especially whenever Ivar had his hands on you in public. He usually grabbed a girl out of the crowd and had her sit on his lap; fingers gripping her thighs, sliding them leisurely up and down; eyes darting to her chest until she let him kiss her and they sneaked out of the room together. You were familiar with his tricks and routines already. But even if he slept around, that did not mean he never acted sullen, even coming up with the occasional remark - that you typically ignored - when it was just you and your daughter around. Perhaps fathering her had made him more territorial.

“What do you need help with, Y/N?” Ubbe inquired and you shook your head. “Who do we have to kill?” He asked nonchalantly.

You were right to think Ubbe would not find Hvitserk’s closeness strange. He knew of his brother’s devotion to you - most everyone did - but thought nothing of it since you, in turn, had always been entirely devoted to Ivar.

“I know who, but she is not going to like it,” Hvitserk said provokingly. He had turned around and was resting his head against your legs. He craned his head for a moment to look at your reaction.

“No one!” You raised your eyebrows at him in an accusatorial manner and he chuckled.

“Worth the try.”

“It is nothing, Ubbe. Do not worry. Hvitserk has it... under control.” You commented awkwardly. After three years of knowing Ubbe, you knew you could probably trust him with this secret, and Ivar would still never find out, but you felt safer if only Hvitserk and you were privy to it.

As if on queue, the door to the Great Hall opened once again and you saw the backlighted outline of your husband and his personal guard following him close behind.

“I see you are petting your guardian dogs, my love.” Ivar said to you. “Move.” He huffed at his brothers.

They both smirked lazily but stayed put, already used to Ivar’s idle taunts. 

Ivar’s shoulders were hunched and his nostrils were flaring. He looked incensed and exhausted, more so than usual. Something had set him off, probably King Harald’s persistent stubbornness. He had been gone since dawn trying to work out a deal to raid England with him. You were kind of hoping he would stay the night at their rendezvous point to have some space to actually get this thing with Hvitserk over with, but he had decided to return the same day. Nobody had to tell you that things had gone awry.

“Your chair’s over there.” Ubbe retorted. “No one’s sitting on it.” He imitated Hvitserk and reclined his head against your leg for you to caress him slowly. 

“But you are touching my crown.” Ivar countered as he made his way to the throne ploddingly. 

Your heart was beating a little faster at the sound of his sweet words and you smiled. He never stopped repeating how much you meant to him, even when he was irate. 

“We are  _ guarding _ your crown.” Ubbe responded. “You ought to just say thanks.”

Ivar sat down and rested his hands on the crutch he had propped in front of himself. He glanced sideways at his brother and gave him a curt sassy smile. “Thanks.”

Then he kept looking straight ahead with a dour expression, his mind clearly occupied on whatever had happened that day. If you knew him half as well as you thought you did,  _ somebody _ on Harald’s entourage was about to die in a gruesome way. You better intervene.

“Do you want to talk about it, sweetheart?” 

Hvitserk flinched imperceptibly and hanged his head to the side as he listened to you speak.

Ivar shook his head, still scowling. “Later. Tonight.”

Whatever was bothering him took precedence. Meeting with Hvitserk would have to wait. 


	5. What if the Gods Have Cursed Me?

You woke up abruptly to look at the blood-stained sheets in your bed and your heart sunk. It had been almost two weeks since the time Hvitserk visited your chambers and you have been praying to all the gods with all your heart ever since for it to have been a fruitful encounter. You had planned everything carefully, making sure the days aligned. 

You saw to it that you and Ivar were also intimate close to the same date, in order to not raise any suspicions in case Hvitserk succeeded. But alas, it seemed as if the gods were against you, perhaps angered that you had forsaken your marriage vows for the second time. Maybe your womb had shriveled inside you. Maybe you were the problem this time. 

“What is it, my love?” Ivar asked half-asleep. 

You were sitting on the bed while he laid down still.

“I am bleeding.”

He propped himself up on his knuckles to look at you but you kept your gaze fixed on the wall in front of you.

A loud huff came out of his nose. “We will try again next month. Do not worry, Y/N.” Your husband’s voice was stiff. He was disappointed, you could tell. Even if his words said otherwise. It was the same story every month. 

“But Ivar… what if the gods have cursed me? It has been so long.” Your voice was small and pained.

He laid back down. “They have not.” He sighed. “They would never curse such a beautiful creature as you.” He took your hand in between his strong fingers and kissed your knuckles briefly. “Besides, I have my little Inga. She is more than enough for now. It is late, my love. Just rest.” 

He reached an arm to you, grabbing your thighs to make you roll and turn facing him. He enveloped you in his muscular arms. You buried your head beneath his chin in the crook of his neck and closed your eyes, trying not to let the sorrow inside your chest swallow you whole.

\---

“Y/N, please, you have to listen to me.”

You shook your head vigorously. “No way! Are you insane?! What has gotten into you, Hvitserk?! I am not going to s-” You yelled but then lowered your voice when you remembered that there were two guards standing outside your tent. 

You were making camp in the middle of the countryside. Ivar was about to raid an English town and he had insisted on you traveling with him and his brothers. He said he missed you too much whenever he went away, but in all honesty, you did not see the point of embarking with him if all he was going to do was banish you to your tent. 

“Ivar’s calculations failed, alright? He is going to need every man he can spare to go into town with him. That means your personal guard too. They are some of his best soldiers… This is your only chance, Y/N. After this Ubbe and I… we have to go north to pay a visit to King Olaf. Who knows how long that will take us?” The desperation in his voice was clear as day. 

His eyes looked straight at you like he had actually thought this through, even if his mouth was spewing nonsense, in your opinion. You eyed Ubbe who had been standing next to Hvitserk and in front of you since he entered the tent. He had not said a word yet so you were not exactly sure how much of your arrangement he was aware of.

When you inquired, Ubbe confirmed: “Hvitserk told me everything.”

The way your eyes opened wide must have made you seem like a crazed woman, but you did not care anymore. 

“You told him?!” You shoved back Hvitserk. “You swore to me on your arm ring that you would never tell a soul!” Trying not to yell your words with the betrayal you felt at the moment was a challenge.

“That was before we tried! Three times! Remember? And still nothing. I am only trying to help you, Y/N.” His voice was low and weary. “Listen, just...  _ try.  _ Give it a chance. Tonight is the perfect opportunity. Even with his disadvantage, he did not want to call all his men, but I convinced Ivar to leave you in Ubbe’s care alone and send everyone else into town. _ ”  _

You paced around the tent and took your cold shaky hands to cover your face momentarily, trying to process Hvitserk’s proposal. “What about Torvi?” You questioned Ubbe as your thoughts raced in every direction.

“I need to leave, Y/N. Ivar will be missing me by now.” Hvitserk’s tone was urgent.

“She has nothing to do with this,” Ubbe replied serene, his gaze sincere and steady. “No one else will  _ ever _ know about this.” Ubbe’s voice was reassuring. He took out a small knife and sliced through the skin on the palm of his hand and you winced, even if he did not. “I swear it. And unlike my brothers, I keep my promises.”

Hvitserk ignored his comment. Instead, both brothers gazed at you expectantly and you finally caved in to the pressure of their stares. You nodded. 

Hvitserk let out a noise of relief and he turned to his sibling, pressing his forehead against him. “Thank you for doing this.” 

And with that, he grabbed his sword, turned on his heels, and left; not without giving you one last look, one that said more than what his mouth was letting on. He looked envious and miserable, despite his efforts to hide it.

It was a windy night outside. The tent was rattling while the strong breeze ruffled the stretched wine-red canvas. As if able to read your thoughts, Ubbe took the cords which intertwined to close the entrance and he secured them. The candles were burning brightly, casting your shadows on the inside of the tent.

“They’re gone.” 

Silence.

“Can I speak honestly, Y/N?” He started after he saw how immobile and tense you were.

You nodded curtly. 

“Now that you are in front of me, I am not really sure how to… do this.” He gesticulated in the air with his hand and you saw the blood trickling down his sleeve, staining the precious fabric. “I want to make this easy on you.”

You tore at the hem of your own dress - not caring if you ruined it at this point - to produce a makeshift rag. You drew near to him to wrap it around his hand but you did not lift up your gaze. The seconds passed awkwardly while he stared at your face and you in turn gazed ashamed upon his boots. Thick tears welled in the corner of your eyes. He exhaled prolongedly and you felt his firm hands searching for you and wrapping tightly around your body. You buried yourself inside his arms, wanting to disappear into his chest and never have to lift up your face to the world again. 

“I am trapped, Ubbe. If I do not give him another child he will know. He will know he cannot father children. He will know I cheated. And he will kill me.” You sobbed, your voice muffled against his shirt. You allowed all of your frustrations to fall down in the form of tears. Loving Ivar had never been easy.

“He will kill Hvitserk too.” You withdrew your face to look up at him, panic seeping into your voice.

Your eyelashes were wet and stuck together, your eyesight a little blurry but you could still see the warmth behind his blazing blue eyes. His fingers held your face affectionately.

“No, he will not. Shh. Shh. He is not going to find out. I promise you.”

“If we do this, he will kill you too.”

“He can try.” Ubbe chuckled lightly. “Y/N… We  _ will _ take this to our graves. And that is the end of that. Alright?”

When you did not speak, he repeated his question in a domineering tone. “ _ Alright? _ ”

You assented and another tear trailed down your cheek and got lost past your neck. 

You wondered how it was that nothing ever shook him, he was steady as a rock. Whenever you had a problem, he was always the first one you consulted in your fit of hysterics. There had been numerous occasions where you had cried in his arms until you were spent, eyes fresh out of tears. Ubbe had been your anchor many times, but after tonight, you knew things would never be the same. 

You could only hope it would not destroy what you had. You simply could not afford to lose the small oasis he was to you. Once again acting quickly as if he could hear your thoughts, he reached your lips with his and brushed them kindly. It was the sweetest kiss, as pure as a feather’s touch, more reassuring than any gesture he had ever done for you before. 

“Oh, you poor thing.” His deep voice full of compassion resounded in your ears. “The things we do for love.”

\---

And in the middle of that crowded feast, when you and Ivar let everyone know of your new pregnancy, you purposefully searched for Ubbe’s eyes across the long table and saw him sprawled comfortably, with Torvi sitting oblivious to his side. A proud twinkle sparkled in his eyes before he raised his cup of mead in the air. He stood up and came your way, congratulating Ivar before lifting you off the ground for a hug and a lovely kiss on your cheek. His lips broke into a boyish smile: he was going to be a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist bringing Ubbe into the mix. I thought I'd finish it but then I had an idea to write 2 more chapters. I think I'm finally done with this piece. Comments are always appreciated! <3


	6. I Need to Learn How to Breathe Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out I'm weak and I'm a liar. I said I was done with this but lo and behold, here's a new chapter cuz I love these three. I have at least 1 or 2 more chapters planned. But I'm not even gonna say that they're the last cuz my track record sucks lol 🤦🏻
> 
> Enjoy! 😌

“Your majesty?” Torvi asked, a bit confused at the sight of a heavily pregnant you standing in their kitchen, before realizing she ought to be kneeling. She briskly set down some kitchen utensils on the table and knelt down. 

“Y/N?” Ubbe questioned after setting aside a heavy crate full of vegetables. “Brother? What brings you two here?!” His voice was concerned but still chipper.

“Well, Y/N wanted to see you. I told her you were doing fine but she insisted on coming here so I brought her. I could not leave her alone in her condition.” Hvitserk replied untangling his arm from yours; he had supported most of your weight on your way here.

“You have not been to our house in almost a month. I was worried.” You explained.

Ubbe’s eyes darted to Torvi for a split second. “We have, uh, been busy setting up our new home. Lots of things to take care of around here.” He walked up to you but instead of curtsying, he brought you closer for a hug before kissing your forehead. He knew how much you hated those formalities. “How are you doing?” He asked sincerely. “How is the baby?”

You tried to give him a smile. The truth was you were exhausted. “Kicking harder every day. He is so big. I can barely eat or sleep anymore. But I am good… and of course very grateful to be carrying Ivar’s child.” You commented appropriately. With your guards standing outside and Torvi in the room, you could not take any chances.

“Of course.” Ubbe smiled innocently. His hands were cradling your stomach now. “By Odin! You are about to burst.” He said incredulously. He knelt down on one knee to be at eye level with your belly. “Uncle Ubbe cannot wait to meet you, little one.” He placed a loud kiss near your belly button and stood up grinning at you and Hvitserk. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

Torvi who was still kneeling on the floor lifted her eyes at you passingly, her jaw tensing hard.

“Please, Torvi. You can stand up!” You had almost forgotten about her. The fear of Ivar extended so far that she had been patiently awaiting your dismissal.

Once again to help you move, Hvitserk grabbed your arm and directed you to a cushioned bench where Ubbe was already sitting, waiting for you two. 

He tapped the cushions with his hand, clearly excited to see you there. “I am surprised Ivar let you out of the house.”

“I begged him to let me stretch my legs. And he let me do it because of the baby.” Your voice was stiff. “And, uh, I told him I wanted to consult you on something.” 

“And what is that, darling?”

“You will help me deliver this baby, right?” Your voice was hopeful.

“Of course.”

“Because as you know… the day is getting closer.” You pressed.

Ubbe nodded but squinted his eyes a little.

Hvitserk sat to your right, straddling the wooden slab and facing you.

Ubbe observed your face cautiously. Then, he turned to look at Torvi as if he had suddenly remembered she was there and he jerked his head to the side. His wife wavered for a second but she turned around and left through their kitchen’s back entrance. 

“Speak, Y/N.” He urged you kindly.

“Can I stay here until then?” You began in a small voice and grimaced, afraid he might tell you no.

Ubbe tilted his head to the side. His eyebrows crinkled together. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Please?” You avoided his question and took his hands in between yours to squeeze them pleadingly. You focused your gaze on them and waited.

“Yes, you can, love. But why are you asking me this? Besides… you know you are the queen, right? You could just order me to give you asylum and  _ I  _ would have no choice.” He smiled.

It was true. You could easily use that to make him comply, but you never felt the need to use your position as leverage with them. With them, you were just you. But that left you in a rather vulnerable position emotionally.

“I just… feel it is better if we stay close together. Since you are going to help me deliver and it could happen any minute now…” You continued in a hesitant tone.

“That makes sense but this does not sound like you. Something else is bothering you, I can tell.”

You looked down at your cold hands now folded in your lap. Your nervousness always betrayed you.

Hvitserk shifted in place. You had not told him what you truly wanted to ask Ubbe. 

“Hey, what's going on?” He prodded gently and slid a thumb against your cheek.

“That is not what you came here to ask, is it?”

Silence.

“Y/N…” He said lightly, trying to convince you to speak. Ubbe grabbed your chin and turned about your face, forcing you to look at him. “It is Ivar, am I right?” He hit the nail on the head from the first try. You nodded. 

“What's going on, sweetheart? Is he hurting you?”

“Define… hurting…” You looked up to the roof trying to keep back the tears. Hvitserk inhaled loudly and from the corner of your eye, you saw how his hand darted to his sword, probably in a reflex he was not even aware of. There was no one there to fight.

“I swear on Thor and all the gods... if I find out you have been hiding something like that all this time I...” Ubbe trailed off and exhaled while grabbing the bridge of his nose.

His voice was deliberately calm, but you were aware of how his temper was simmering underneath the surface. It was a precarious peace, one he excelled at maintaining. Or at least for longer than his brothers did. At this point, you knew well his changes in pitch and tone and what each of them truly signified, just like you’d learned Hvitserk’s and your husband’s.

“He is not hurting my body, but he hurts my heart every single day.” 

Those months of confinement had been a moment for introspection. Ivar really did not let you do anything this time, only allowing you to move from your room to the dinner table and back again. But in a way that helped you finally understand your place in your marriage. It was clear you were just Ivar’s broodmare. His prized possession, the jewel of his crown, as he said  —  but an object nonetheless. 

He said he loved you, and he spared no expense to buy your affection and compensate for all the time he was away, but he also controlled your every breath. You felt like a bird in a gilded cage and at last, you had come to resent him for it. You explained all that was in your head to them and they listened without interrupting, a small gesture for which you were deeply grateful.

Then you uttered a phrase that made them look at you with alarm. “I want to go away. And I need you two to help me.”

They exchanged a look before asking you: “Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

“I need to learn how to breathe again, Ubbe.”

“What you are asking for... will not be so simple.” Ubbe warned. 

“I know. B-but I want to do it. I _ have _ to do it. I have to leave Ivar.”

“...Then it is better if you stay here until the baby’s born, and in the meantime, we can figure out a way to send you two away.” Ubbe grabbed your hand to kiss your knuckles and Hvitserk nodded; he was poised and alert.

“Oh, it is just me!” You tried to protest.

“No, no, no. I am coming too.” The blond brother informed you before you could further protest and even if you hated to admit it, you were comforted to know you counted on him.

You blinked nervously but nodded. A tear and a long sigh of relief escaped you.

“Torvi!” Ubbe called on his wife. 

She appeared not too long after and stood in front of you all with a downcasted look. She curtsied and smoothed the pleat of her skirt carefully.

“Y/N is going to stay here until the baby’s born. In the meantime, you are to treat her like what she is, the Queen of Kattegat.” His tone was firm. 

Torvi’s eyes darted to you specifically. “May I ask why this change of…  _ situation _ ?” 

“That is not your concern, woman.” He replied calmly, no disrespect intended in his tone, but no room for debate either. 

She lowered her head again and nodded begrudgingly. She looked as if Ubbe had just asked her to welcome his new wife into his hearth and home, which was how you were sure this situation looked like in her eyes. Despite your current predicament and your child’s paternity, you did not mean to meddle in their relationship and you would never take away someone else’s husband, but you truly needed his care and protection.

“I will let Ivar know. Wish me luck because I am sure he will be livid.” Ubbe walked to the door while he spoke. “You should come with me, Hvitserk.” 


	7. Treason, my dear.

It had been more than a few hours since Ubbe and Hvitserk had gone. You had not seen Torvi since they left either. She had scurried away out of your sight the second you two were alone and you could not exactly blame her. But you were becoming increasingly anxious so you asked your men to take you back to the Great Hall.

“You stand before me accused of-” You heard Ivar’s demanding tone faintly in the distance.

Your feet carried you to his voice hurriedly. When you came upon the empty clearing that was the space between the thrones - one of them visibly empty - and the people, you saw both of your brothers-in-law kneeling on the ground side by side; their hands, clothes, and faces saturated in blood, grass, and dirt. Both men looked battered but not quite dejected. Hvitserk spat blood on the ground and looked up at Ivar while Ubbe dried his face on his shoulder before lifting up his chin as well. 

When they saw you had entered the room their expressions changed significantly. You looked from Ivar to them and your heart pounded loudly against your eardrums. Ivar sat forward on his seat as he watched you deliberate on where to go next. There was only one possible explanation for this gruesome spectacle: Ivar had found out. There was no point in begging. You could not help but run to them. Kneeling as best as you could - considering the weight of your stomach - you grabbed Hvitserk’s slashed and lacerated face to make him look at you. The Great Hall, already silent, now was deafeningly so. 

“Why are you here? You should not have come, Y/N!” Hvitserk questioned you in a hushed tone. He sounded vexed, perhaps even disappointed to see you there.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” You were hurt at his suggestion, your eyes rapidly filled with tears. “When you did not return… I imagined the worst.” Your voice was quieter and quieter with every word. The realization that you could have lost him hit you like a brick.

“Then you should have just… left. We were prepared to die for you.”

Your eyes flew to Ubbe who looked at you from the corner of his eye and nodded subtly, his face all hard angles.

You shook your head agitated and whispered under your voice: “I cannot do this without you. I do not  _ want _ to do it without you.” You finally admitted. “Does he know?” Still whispering, you turned to Ubbe. 

You examined his face, he had open bruises on his cheeks and forehead. His hands were gushing blood and you realized with horror that his fingernails were missing. He nodded tersely again. The shine of his liquid blue irises had not diminished, he looked into your eyes with more guilt than you thought he deserved to place on himself. Surely, he had not been the one at fault. Your heart overflowed with sorrow and anger. You extended your fingers to caress his face momentarily before turning around to face Ivar. He watched the three of you with open contempt.

“What have you done to them?!” You stood up trembling from the ground to voice your indignation.

“You know, I thought you would come begging for my forgiveness, but I clearly see now how that is not going to happen.”

You lifted your face proudly. “And what are we being accused of?” You asked in a bout of courage.

“Treason!” Ivar shouted. “Treason, my dear. You  _ all  _ betrayed me!”

You looked to Ivar’s left side and saw Torvi standing there. She had a blank unforgiving expression.

“Do not blame her. She merely had a hunch something was not quite right. I had to beat it out of them. And sure enough, they only confessed when I threatened to hurt you.” Ivar sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

You tried to process the fact that he had even considered hurting you. The Ivar you fell in love with would have died before harming you. “I was only doing what was best... for you.” You let him know.

Ivar chuckled. “I wonder if that included sleeping with my brother Hvitserk. And then conspiring with Ubbe for him to help you two escape.” He gesticulated between the three of you enthusiastically. As usual, he oscillated between manic and irate.

You stayed quiet.

“Well?! Do you deny it?” Despite his taunts, his question still carried a hint of hope that you would say otherwise.

“N-no.” You retorted and the Great Hall erupted into exclamations.

“Then there is not much else to discuss, is there? This trial serves no purpose anymore. At this point, I would not be surprised if you told me this unborn child is not mine either.”

Inevitably, you glanced at Ubbe, silently asking for his permission to speak and he nodded before continuing to gaze straight ahead. Clearly, he did not care anymore. And neither did you, so you raised your voice for everyone to hear you.

“It is not. You can thank Ubbe for this one.” You found your voice to be full of resentment. 

A low gasp passed through the crowd. Torvi looked staggered as if her worst suspicions finally had confirmation. But what truly shocked you was Ivar’s face. You had never seen him that upset. He was furious, all the colors washed away from his face. 

“You did…  _ what _ ?!” He challenged you to explain.

“I did what I had to do! To keep you happy! I never even wanted children to begin with.” It felt good to shout it out loud.

“You were not satisfied enough with me, so you had to whore yourself to  _ both _ of them?!” He sat forward hastily on the edge of his throne again, if he moved a few inches further, he would fall over.

Hvitserk chuckled, a low throaty sound that only seemed to further antagonize Ivar. 

“What are laughing at, huh, little brother?!” 

“I am not your little brother.” Hvitserk punctuated in a menacing tone. “And who are you trying to fool? You could not even take her maidenhead. I had to do that myself! Least of all were you enough to ‘satisfy _ ’ _ her.” He shook his head incredulously and laughed unashamed.

A dull roar passed through those gathered again; some stray laughs reached your ears as well.

“Yeah, you heard me right. My brother, the mighty King Ivar, only did half a job on his wedding night.” Hvitserk’s voice boomed through the room, loud and unapologetic. “I did you the favor of fathering your child.” He spat on the floor a second time. “You should be grateful.” 

Your cheeks were burning scarlet from the embarrassment. This was the worst possible time for you to find out he had indeed noticed you were still a virgin at the time of Inga’s conception. 

“You will pay for this! All three of you.” Ivar threatened you. “But first, I am releasing you from the bonds of this marriage, Y/N because I could never,  _ ever _ , hurt my wife. Not the one I knew and cherished so much. At the very least I am intent on protecting the memory of who she was.” His voice was halfway between pained and determined.

“You say you are divorcing me but the truth is you have never been my husband.” Tears gushed from your eyes like a spring.

“How dare you?!” Ivar yelled.

“Sure, you brought me gifts and whispered sweet words to me but you were too caught up in your plans to even realize that I had needs too.” You continued, talking over the noise. 

Both Ubbe and Hvitserk turned their heads upwards to look at you, surely surprised to hear you voicing to Ivar with such conviction your well-guarded feelings on your marriage to him.

“I was your prisoner! I could not go out! I could not speak to anybody! And you were not even here! I was left alone to handle everything and I never asked for anything in return. If it were not for your brothers I do not know what I would have done... And then there is this.” You grabbed your stomach with two hands. “I love my children but you have  _ no idea _ how many tears and sleepless nights it cost me to beget them, you selfish snake.” You looked him straight in the eye, your voice trembled but you did not back down. Your words were stinging him, you could tell.

“I have contorted myself into so many shapes to try and keep you happy… And you just were not  _ here _ . I mean, Hvitserk practically raised Inga... And Ubbe ruled in your stead. He is the one that held me while I cried every time you left me.” You gestured toward him and he furrowed his brow. If you did not know him as well as you did, you would say he was about to cry as well. “You failed to see how much I needed you but  _ they _ were here, taking care of me, making sure I was okay...”

There was a clarity in your tone which startled you. You had never heard yourself speak in such a way and the fact that you were only just now saying it out loud was as scary as it was cathartic. Your eyes were finally open; your marriage had always been one-sided. Ivar took more from you than he ever gave back.

“Ubbe has been more of a king and confidante than you have ever been.” You took a pause. “And Hvitserk… Hvitserk has been more of a husband and father than you ever were.” Your face contorted. “So, if you are going to kill us, go ahead. But I do not want to keep living this lie anymore.” You knelt back down in the middle of them and awaited your sentence.

\---

After a long pause, Ivar spoke. “Kill you? I could never do that, my dear. For the love I bore you three, I could not. But I will not let you enter my presence anymore, either.”

Ubbe scoffed lightly. You knew what he was thinking.  _ Typical Ivar _ . He thought his presence was more precious than the sun. But you might actually get to keep your heads after all. 

“From this day on… I banish you from Kattegat. And if anyone here shall try to give you shelter, they will perish a gruesome death by the sword.”

Ivar’s men came to grab you all to make you stand up forcefully. “Get your  _ fucking _ hands off me, Guthrum, or I will gut you, you wimp.” Hvitserk grunted at Torvi’s eldest son; his defiance knew no limits. Guthrum stood aside. 

“Hey! Hey! Do not touch her!” Ubbe growled as he shoved back the men who made you stand up.

“That is fine by me.” Hvitserk shot at Ivar. “But I am not leaving Kattegat without my daughter.” His tone was final. “And I am ready to fight you and everyone else in here for her.” He glanced sideways around the room.

“Me too.” You joined him. 

Ivar’s expression grew hard. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Begrudgingly, he spoke at last. “Fine. You can all go rot in Hel. What do I care? She is not mine after all.” He made a dismissive gesture with his fingers. His expression turned to stone. 

You saw the wet nurse step forward from behind the throne with your daughter in her arms and you launched yourself forward but Ubbe held you back. Instead, Hvitserk grabbed her securely and placed a kiss on her cheek.

The people in the Great Hall parted noiselessly to let you through, their shaming gazes upon you three as you waded your way through, huddling together side by side. You felt Ubbe’s arms on your back, quietly bolstering you, and you clung onto Hvitserk’s right arm. You reached the door and the cold air of the night entered your lungs, cooling the balmy sweat on your skin as well. The soft breeze ruffled your hairs making them stand, and for the first time in forever you truly breathed; you were finally free.


	8. Epilogue: Fatherly Duties

The sun was setting on King Olaf’s village. You had spent the afternoon gathering cooking herbs and mushrooms from the nearby woods. On your way back to your cottage’s kitchen you passed by Ubbe, who was sitting in the sand lifting Inga in the air and playing games with her. You heard her scream playfully and you could not help but grin. You knew how Ubbe missed his son with Torvi, so you were glad he at least had someone to help him deal with his feelings.

“You two better be sparkling clean before dinner.” You scolded them. 

“Yes, mom.” Ubbe said in a falsely annoyed tone, never taking his eyes off her. “Oh, Y/N?”

“Yes?” You poked your head out of the cottage’s entrance again. 

“There’s this girl from town who is joining us for dinner tonight. I told you that, right?” He inquired casually and eyed you briefly. He set down Inga and gave her a little push to send her running toward the lakeshore.

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Tired so soon of being a bachelor? Are we pursuing anybody?” You questioned him as you crouched to be at eye level with him.

“Maybe.” Ubbe shrugged and laid down on the sand, passing a hand behind his head. “I would certainly love to find out what she feels. But, uh, maybe do not mention whose child is our newborn? He touched your ankles absentmindedly and closed one eye to look at you better. The sun was hitting his face directly, making him squint.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “She will not hear it from me.”

“Good. I do not want to scare her- oh!” He exclaimed when your daughter came running and threw herself on top of him. “Gods, you are heavy! I yield! I yield!” Ubbe said dramatically.

Inga giggled and lifted her little hand to show him a conch shell she had brought him from the shore.

“For me?” Ubbe asked her and she nodded. “Thank you, princess.” He kissed her cheek and you watched their exchange beaming. You loved the way he loved her and protected her. Being a father came naturally to him.

“But I am warning you: if I do not like her you are not seeing her anymore.” You teased him.

“Is that so?” He smirked while flipping the small conch in his fingers. 

“Mhmm.” 

“I do not suppose you can be less selective.”

“Oh, no. I am very picky. So she better be this stunning, nice, well-spoken creature...”

“None better than mommy, right, baby girl?” He asked Inga and kissed her temple adoringly while winking at you. 

She was sprawled beside him, her attention focused on the small doll in between her hands that Ubbe had given her for her name day. Still, she nodded even if she had no clue what you two were talking about. 

“Every day she looks more like you.” Ubbe said. “Hvitserk’s blonde hair aside.” He clarified.

“I always thought she was the spitting image of her father, except maybe her nose... which made it really awkward whenever Ivar held her.” You reminisced. 

Ubbe shot you a look. You did not like talking too much about the past but you knew that avoiding it was not doing anyone any favors either. It was the first time in months that you had acknowledged your past relationship with Ivar.

“Oh, she has your nose for sure.” Ubbe tried to remain casual. He grabbed her little nose between his knuckles and she crinkled it. “Look at her! Even her expressions are yours!” He chuckled lowly. 

You shook your head and pursed your lips, leaving them to their antics to go back inside.

“Y/N?” Hvitserk asked as soon as you entered the cottage.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You replied.

“Come here, my love.”

You made your way to your bedroom and saw your husband lying down sideways while he caressed your newborn son lovingly. He grabbed his tiny foot and kissed it warmly.

“Look at him sleeping! I finally managed to rock him to sleep without any milk!” Hvitserk sounded proud. 

He gave you an overjoyed smile and you could not help but smile back. He took his fatherly duties very seriously, even more now that he did not have to hide. As a matter of fact, both of them did. They treated each other’s children with the same amount of love as their own.

You passed a hand down your baby’s head, feeling his soft hair.

“Where were you?” 

“I was getting some ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Then I stopped outside... Ubbe was playing with our daughter.”

“Oh, I know. I heard them. He is so smitten with her.” Hvitserk laughed. “You should rest for a while, though. You have been up since dawn.”

You sighed. You were tired but dinner needed to be ready soon.

“Y/N...” He said lovingly. “I can take care of dinner.”

“Fine, but just for a moment.” You laid down on the bed, careful not to wake your sleeping baby. You could rest for a minute or two. 

Hvitserk searched for your mouth and you gave him a slow kiss on the lips. He raised a hand to caress your cheeks and he smiled before you pressed your foreheads together. “I cannot believe you are finally mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Look me up on Tumblr! deans-ch-ch-cherrypie.tumblr.com
> 
> In case you want to support me: https://ko-fi.com/amyponders


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